A Moment Like This?: Thoughts on the Eve of American Idol Registration

Why am I auditioning for 'American Idol'? Perhaps it should do all of you good to know that I am totally aware of what I am up against in the next few days. 'American Idol' is more than a reality TV show; to millions of viewers, it is the reality TV show when it comes around every year. It attracts all of the ratings with a perfect twist of the bizarre (namely the audition episodes), the uncomfortable (every season has one person that shouldn't have made it that far), and the overall talented (usually the top 12), along with a loveable ringmaster in Ryan Seacrest and the ever-entertaing judges Randy Jackson, Paula Abdul, and Simon Cowell. Though a money-making juggernaut, the essence of the show does what most in the record company would never dream of doing these days, breaking down the wall between the passionate music lover and the business of which they are a consumer, thereby giving any John Q. Viewer with a voice the opportunity to further themselves in a music career. That seems easy enough, right? No pressure whatsoever.

I don't fully know what to expect of the auditions. I suppose that in my mind's eye it would be the biggest excercise in controlled chaos ever. Occupying the Georgia Dome will be thousands of everyday people, ranging in vocal styles anywhere between Mariah Carey and a 2 year-old toddler singing "The Itsy Bitsy Spider". I would imagine that the producers of this show must be some of the most patient and skilled in the business, carefully sifting through the mediocre casual crooners to grab onto the handful of honest possible contenders and another handful of crazies that are just as inspired. How many times do you think they will hear "You Raise Me Up" by Josh Groban? Could you ever listen to anything by Whitney Houston again after being paid to sit through a few thousand off-key renditions of "Saving All My Love"? They will sit through as many as necessary so that we as viewers can enjoy the very few that were easily the most ridiculous, most enjoyable, or both in front of the panel of judges (sometimes even both). These producers give the final program a stroke of genious that no writer could invent; God bless them, every one.

As for me, as I have already stated, I am a longshot and a half. For starters, I am hardly genre-specific when it comes to singing. Daughtry was a rocker, Fantasia sings R & B, Carrie Underwood was always a country girl (as was Bucky), Clay was a crooner, and Ruben was all about soul. I enjoy singing a little bit of it all, which is tough to sell in a format-based radio market. Second, I have no style. Sure, once you are on the show, they set you up with the stylists that give you a look for the show, but beyond that I have absolutely no fashion sense. However, I should also state for the record that I would never be dumb enough to try and pull off any of the numerous hair styles that Sanjaya was brave enough to fail at. Image is way more important than some people consider in the music industry; sometimes, it can even make up for what you lack in talent. I am always reminded of this by an old episode of the Partridge Family. The band is booked to play an Air Force base under the agreement that they back uo an 18 year-old daughter as a favor to a friend of band manager Reuben Kincaide. Keith Partridge falls in love with her, as she is beautiful. What Keith doesn't realize until later is that she can't carry a tune at all. Of course, the family is now in crisis mode as they will be playing a song for a horrible singer. Reuben, the genious that he was, dresses her in hot pants for the performance, and the loud cheers and cat calls of the crowd drown out the sound of her voice. In effect, this still happens today, but it won't be anytime soon that anyone will squeeze this dude into a pair of hot pants for the sake of selling a record.

At the end of the day, it all comes down to the fact that this is truly a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to sing in front of as many people as possible. It would be ridiculous for me to not at least try. Regardless of the outcome, even if my tenure goes no further than registering for a spot in the audition line-up tomorrow, I can look back and say that I was there. That is more than what some others could say. I could be the next Taylor Hicks as easily as I could be turned into the next William Hung, but for now I will take my cues from Sanjaya; God knows if he can make it, just about anyone can.

"Seacrest out."